Dissonance
by zosteria.in.armor
Summary: The first fissures between Tarrlok and Korra appeared after their first task force mission - small, but always on the verge of cracking wide open. (Part I: Somehow even sacred precepts felt like inadequate answers for this man - and for the things the young Avatar had seen since coming to the city.)


**DISSONANCE (Part I)**

_The first fissures between Tarrlok and Korra appeared after their first task force mission—small, but always on the verge of cracking wide open._

* * *

Once a provisional measure used before the Police HQ had been built, the basement locker room was a dark and faintly dank but not unclean affair that languished without complaint beneath Republic City Hall's east wing. Wholly inorganic in its industrial sheen and concrete austerity, it had a simple purpose that was rarely fulfilled—it was, after all, almost never used now that the police force had its own proud and spacious home. Not that it had ever been more than adequate—it was simply a spartan room lined with lockers and benches, and far from the sight of the rest of the grand building.

There was something stifling to Korra about being underground at night—almost like having one blanket too many, the layers of separation from fresh air bearing down on her inescapably with no way to fight back. (Many things in Republic City had that effect on her, she had found.) Alone in the room as she was, the Avatar did not bother to hide her discomfort, promptly hanging up her uniform—somewhat pitiably askew on a wire hanger—in one of the corner lockers before briskly making for the stairs.

* * *

City Hall was never really abuzz with activity, even during the day; this place was too dignified for that, preferring instead to stand august and composed—removed, it seemed, and impartial to even the most heated debates that went on within its own body. At night, its stillness took on a gentler character, allowing its corridors to be swathed in a dim light that held the few who had ever seen it in a snug intimacy. It felt improper, almost an affront to nature, to walk very quickly or speak very loudly.

This stillness was unsettling to Korra and it followed her wherever she went, up darkened stairways plush under her boots, and around wide ornate corners that glimmered rebelliously in the twilight. Eventually she came to the top floor, a walkway that overlooked the darkened meeting place of the Council below. Here, the doors were far taller and fewer, and the only open one was at the very end of the walkway.

As she headed for it, Korra's pace slowed in deference to a dawning feeling—with each step, a familiar, silky sensation seem to trickle down somewhere in her mind, between her eyes, from head to toe. This feeling didn't become stronger, rather, it became clearer in the Avatar's consciousness as she drew closer.

There was no denying what it was, but what its source within a building could possibly be puzzled Korra. Was there a really big, gaudy fountain like the ones in the city's parks and squares, nearby? Her curiosity was beginning to overtake her original purpose in coming to this floor.

As she stepped inside, the office held Korra in the same dark hush of the rest of the building, but a different light entirely seemed to suffuse the room with an indigo pallor, wan but strangely warm in the moonlight. Anyone who would have entered the room would have surmised its source from the quiet intermittent trickling that starkly pattered upon a kind of silence that was rare in Republic City. But for a bender like Korra, there was something else, something unseen—that extra dimension that she now sensed—felt—more distractingly than ever—

_Water._

The man sitting behind the desk in front of her was all but forgotten when Korra saw what the towered behind him—a man-made waterfall that cascaded over a stone mural in an eerie tameness like a veil. A somewhat distracted voice seemed to issue forth from it—

"Makes up for the lack of furniture, doesn't it?"

Korra blinked and looked down, oddly startled by the presence of Councilman Tarrlok despite the fact that he had been in front of her the whole time. Immediately she noticed that he had not changed out of the his uniform, apparently having set right to work taking care of the less exciting part of the task force's mission as soon as he had gotten back.

When Korra did not reply right away, the Councilman looked up briefly to cast a grin at the Avatar, and she offered a sheepish one of her own before returning her eyes to the water. "Yeah, you could say that."

"I do. It's what I tell myself when I wish I just had a nice couch for long nights like this," Tarrlok replied, eyes returning to the paperwork with a lighter gaze. "On that note, I don't suppose you'd like to help me with the report…?"

Korra's eyes flitted nervously across at the desk's scattered landscape despite herself. "I…think I'll leave the paperbending to the pro."

That elicited wider grin from the Councilman. "Well, I'll let you slide this time since you were the real pro out there today." Parchment slid curtly over wood as he continued to work. "But do have a seat. I was hoping to catch you before you went back to the Air Temple. Just let me finish this real quick."

The stiff chair opposite Tarrlok's desk was uninviting for a number of reasons, but Korra took a seat anyway. "Oh—okay."

While she had been in a more energetic mood when she had earlier agreed to come up to his office, that post-fight thrill had since left the young Avatar, and with it much of her energy. At the prospect of (more) sitting around and waiting, the thought of crashing on the comfy sheets of her bed—after downing a steaming bowl of Pema's amazing homemade rice porridge, of course—suddenly became tantalizingly sweet, and she inwardly grieved having to defer that desire.

But with a stubbornness borne of refusing to admit any sign exhaustion or weakness, Korra opted to wait stoically. If an old guy like Tarrlok could run around Republic City all day and night and still have the energy to sit on uncomfortable chairs doing boring work, there was no reason that she couldn't stick around a little longer.

What she ended up enduring: a prolonged quiet outlined by pen sketching and water trickling—moments not quite airless, but not exactly comfortable, either. Time seemed to become tangible. Alternately looking between the in-progress report and the rest of the room, Korra became increasingly restless, then suddenly irritated. Was all this paperwork really necessary?

Their daring raid of the Equalists' training facility in Dragon Flats had been prolific enough: a press corps of jagged-edge old men and bleary-eyed youths—undoubtedly pulled out of bed by their editors' calls to cover the story—had billowed around them as they emerged from the basement with their captives.

Tarrlok had insisted that Korra be photographed with him as they ushered the apprehended men and women into waiting police Satomobiles, and after a little coaching from the camera-friendly Councilman, she had found herself enjoying the posturing and attention-basking almost as much as he seemed to. (Almost.)

She wondered now at that—at Tarrlok's enthusiasm for his work. Catching a glimpse of his face—placid in concentration but complex and flush with shadows and age—Korra was reminded of the men of her tribe when they sat by the fire in the cold, late-evening quiet.

But the electric lights of Republic City did not waver as flames, and so the shadows crisply rearranged themselves when Tarrlok's eyes flickered up for a moment to catch hers and he flashed another smile before speaking abruptly.

"Yes, you really gave those Equalists a what-for. The way you went after those runners—" He whistled tunelessly through his teeth. "Now _that_ took some moxie."

The Republic City neologism hung heavily in the air for Korra's inspection. Somehow it had not sounded forced as though through gritted teeth, like when most other older adults tried it out reluctantly, (not-so-) secretly resenting it and the newfangled ways it stood for. But for the Councilman to use it so handily was a little incongruous to the Avatar—as many things about Tarrlok seemed to be, now that she thought about it.

Korra managed a thanks before the Councilman put a hand up and continued as if she hadn't opened her mouth. "No, Avatar, I'm the one who should be thanking you again, for joining my task force. I know you've already got a full plate with your airbending training. And you'd probably rather be out on the pro-bending field than chasing criminals around the slums with an old man. But I believe we're really doing something to clean up this city, and maintain the balance of peace between benders and non-benders. Which is_exactly_ what the Avatar should be doing."

At some point Tarrlok had put his pen down, stitching his hands together and fixing his full attention on Korra. She suddenly felt wide awake.

"And I meant what I said back there—we really do make a great team, Avatar Korra."

Something about that—and the way Tarrlok sat back, relaxed but looking at her attentively as if he'd handed a microphone over to her to speak—made Korra grope for what Tenzin liked to refer to as "proper decorum." It usually meant the opposite of how the young Avatar conducted herself; though Korra had nothing against being polite, she chafed at being disingenuous.

But in this case, she told herself that she just wanted to return like for like. "Well, I…couldn't have done it without you, uh, Tarrlok. You were really great out there, too. I mean, to be honest, I thought you'd just head up your task force in name. I didn't expect you to be much of a fighter."

Tarrlok's eyes looked expectantly amused, as if Korra was approaching a punchline. "Not much of a fighter?" he echoed with a playfully incredulous edge. "Who else would be chosen as representative of the proud Northern Water Tribe?"

"Yeah, I know, but that's what I don't get, either…I can't even imagine you in the North—not that I've ever actually been there, but I mean, you don't really _seem_ Water Tribe—not that you don't look like it, but—"

Despite what was actually coming out her mouth, Korra was grasping for another compliment—in fact, her own insecurities, stemming from her difficulty in adjusting to life in Republic City, made her envious of how well Tarrlok seemed to fit in with the modern, bustling landscape, despite his origins. He shared with the city its unflappable vigor and carefully coiffed bearing—he didn't seem to sleep, didn't seem to need to, yet somehow appeared no worse for wear, always knowing just how to look and what to say and do.

Watching the Avatar intently as she trailed off, Tarrlok had put on a smaller smile, which oddly reached his eyes more than the broad ones he proffered to the press. Korra saw this, and thought it made him look furtive—as if he could see her insecurities and was turning them over in his hands for idle inspection.

Noticing how the Councilman's hair was tamer now than it had been right after the mission, Korra lashed out against the creeping anxiety by finishing her previous train of thought almost offhandedly—

"—you seem like kind of a priss."

Tarrlok laughed outright at that. "So you don't think a polarleopard can change the color his spots?"

Shrugging uncertainly, "Something like that," Korra said, recognizing the old Water Tribe adage (though she'd heard it worded a little differently in the South).

At that thought, the elderly representative of her homeland on the Council came to her mind. With Koyuk's parka and languid gait he would not have looked out of place shuffling through the snow with the other elders in Korra's village. The way he braced against his duties in Republic City was not unlike the way one braced against the cold of the south pole.

"I just meant that you seem like you've been here all your life—compared to Councilman Koyuk, anyway," Korra concluded.

That drew another chuckle and an almost private smile from Tarrlok, and he nodded, looking lost in thought. A moment passed before he spoke again, and Korra watched, increasingly expectant as the Councilman looked up contemplatively. He shifted in his seat to lean forward, hands still entwined, and took in a breath.

"Well, there aren't exactly many sharkwhales or tigerseals here in Republic City, as you might have noticed," Tarrlok started almost conspiratorially, "so I don't often get the opportunity to display my hunting skills. Oh, yes," he looked up somewhere over Korra's head in a dramatically blithe fashion, "I once hunted with the best of my village—my father taught me well, and when he died, I became the man of the house, doing what I had to in order to keep my family warm and fed. Meanwhile, as a waterbender, I progressed in my training—and, yes, excelled in combat. In fact, I would say I was respected primarily for my talent in these areas, and owe much of my early success in life to the weight our people put on martial prowess…"

Despite his schooled expressions, most of Tarrlok's monologue had sounded a little stilted even to Korra's relatively undiscerning ears. But as she had no reason to believe his story was a complete fabrication, she simply suspected that it had been recounted many times before—to people who had no idea if that was what Water Tribe culture was really like; people who probably didn't care if it was true; people who had their own rehearsed stories to tell.

"But when I came here, I found that it was…a different…playing field, if you will," Tarrlok continued in a more natural tone. "After the initial culture shock, I realized that I had to adapt—to the different ways of living, the different expectations…the different_opportunities_…"

"It's different here, alright," Korra thought aloud, and a little more pathetically than intended, wincing as soon as she heard the words leave her mouth. She had not even noticed her mind straying in that somber direction that it sometimes did late at night, when she wearily looked out her bedroom window at the sleepless city.

"We're a long way from home, you and I."

Surprised to hear the Councilman sympathize with her, Korra looked up. That little smile was back on his face, but his eyes looked warmer this time.

"As I was saying, immigrating to Republic City wasn't easy for me, either. Sure, it was all so new and exciting for a kid fresh off the boat—bright lights, big city…but actually living here? I can't tell you how many times I thought of just giving up and heading home. There were some days when I couldn't stand _anything_ about this place—in fact, to this day, I could really do without the July rainy season. You'll find out what I mean if you stick around until then…"

Korra sounded more urgent when she spoke up again, as if she was searching intently for something. "Then why _did_ you leave? If you hated it so much here—and were really such a stud in the North—"

"Well, why did _you_ leave?" Tarrlok countered, miffed at another interjection from his audience. Guessing what might gall the girl, "I'm sure you had no shortage of marriage proposals back home," he said, raising an eyebrow as his voice dipped further into humor. "Or, perhaps that's what _drove_ you to leave…?"

The teenager's hands swatted the air indignantly. "What? No! I left because—uh, hello—I'm the _Avatar_? I mean, okay, so I left home a little ahead of schedule since I had to come here to learn airbending from Tenzin. But I would have had to leave home eventually, anyway. 'Cause I'm not the South Pole Avatar, or the Sorry-Folks-I-Only-Do-Three-Elements Avatar. I'm _the Avatar_. And only the Avatar can master all four elements, and bring balance to the world," she finished, reciting her last sentence with a faux grave expression to mimic her airbending master.

"In that case, you could say I left my home for the same reasons you did." Ignoring Korra's skeptical expression, the Councilman continued, "There are institutions of higher learning in the Northern capital, yes—and throughout the Kingdoms, certainly—but I knew nothing could match the quality of education that was established in Republic City, practically at the crux of the modern world.

"And while I was studying here, I found a reason to stay. You might have heard plenty about Republic City before coming here, but the commotion was never bigger than during its developing years. I was around your age when I heard a radio broadcast for the first time." Recounting this memory, his voice took on a sweeping quality, his hands up and moving apart like curtains revealing a stage. "All of us in that tiny village, we imagined a flawless metropolis of plenty, a utopia of hard work and even harder play. I really thought everyone here was living it up—"

"Yeah, me, too—"

"—but of course, the myth and reality turned out to be very different. The abject poverty and senseless depravity that plagued the city was unlike anything I'd ever seen, and it shook me more than a change in climate or table manners ever could. I saw people of every nation—including our Water Tribe, North and South, it doesn't matter—struggling to coexist, to survive."

His voice had lost the note of joviality it usually held, and the grave picture he described resonated with Korra—it was, in fact, what all long-term visitors invariably found not-so-far under Republic City's surface.

But she did not notice Tarrlok pausing to gauge his audience, inwardly feeling pleased to see that the young Avatar was finally listening raptly.

"Instead of running home in disgust, as I wanted to at times, I resolved to first finish my education—with the ultimate goal of returning to the city one day as a representative of my people, and helping to make it a better place for _everyone_ to live in balance and harmony." He smiled with matter-of-fact satisfaction. "And so you see, anyone who ever wanted to grow, and change this world, first had to leave home."

"But…no, I'm different," Korra contested, though her tone was more unsure than heated. "I was _born_ to go and master of all the elements. And to make…everything better once I…do my Avatar duties, and eventually bring balance to the world—"

"How exactly are you planning to do that?"

At the suddenly firm and clipped voice, Korra started. Something had changed. Her eyes locked with a new focus to the man in front of her as if for the first time, just like when she'd entered the room. Tarrlok's lips were still upturned, but somehow unsmiling.

"Well…—"

"What do you mean by 'your _Avatar duties_'?"

"I—"

"And what _is_ 'balance' in this world?"

The quiet that followed was one of a missing answer, an absent riposte, a sudden stop. Under the sweltering scrutiny of the Councilman, Korra looked in vain to the waterfall for relief.

Of course, part of her training under the careful watch of the Order of the White Lotus had involved her being subjected to countless musty old tomes and droning lectures, recited answers that theoretically answered Tarrlok's questions. Somewhere in Korra's mind lurked those ancient words pontificating on the will of the Spirits, yin and yang, the ebb and flow of history—

But somehow even sacred precepts felt like inadequate answers for this man—and for the things the young Avatar had seen since coming to the city. All this talk of Republic City's woes had bought every injustice and imbalance back into the forefront of Korra's mind; and after that, Tarrlok's pointed questions had seemed like an indictment, and served to reinforce the teenager's niggling sense of guilt.

"Do you see what I'm getting at, Korra?" It was another question, but the Councilman's voice and expression were a little softer.

"I'll figure it all out," the Avatar blurted out at last, her resounding but deflated voice spilling out into the former quiet. "All the Avatars before me did. Once I master airbending, something will happen—a…a, a war, or something—or I'll make something happen, or the Spirits will…"

The rest of Korra's already thin confidence faded as she watched the Councilman begin to shake his head—was it in disagreement or disappointment?—before she could finish.

"It's not so simple, Korra. I know you know that; you're a smart girl. You're also strong and confident—that's very good. If and when you become a fully-realized Avatar—"

(—_If and when_, Korra repeats in her mind with a fresh despair—)

"—you'll be invaluable as a symbol of the harmony and balance that can be achieved in the world."

Another new and unhappy feeling—some nascent fear or familiar dread—touched the Avatar's heart. _Symbol_. Despite how Tarrlok had said it—giving it enough weight to grant it meaning but without bogging it down with emphasis—that word crushed her with its implications.

She did not want to be a symbol.

But was that all she was?

In an instant, something in the air changed again as Korra's mind snatched at infuriating realizations—_first he says I'm great, now he says I'm nothing_—_I'm the Avatar, how can I not become "fully realized"_—_I'm not just going to be some dumb symbol, I'm going to_—_I'll_—and righteous anger or indignation flared up within her—_I'll_—

But it illuminated nothing, and quickly went out. Her fists unclenched, the bones sinking back dejectedly. It was a strength not relaxed, but rather, receded in defeat.

Tarrlok did not see that from his position, but some kind of twin indication had registered in the girl's face or her eyes to betray the knowledge to him all the same. He, too, relaxed—but it was a sort of lowering of arms, with the easy confidence of a victor.

"But of course…that's not all you can be, Avatar Korra. You have amazing potential—" (Korra would later loathe the way her ears so readily perked up at this) "—as a real force of change."

"But how can I change anything? You said it yourself, and you were right—everything is messed up. And I can't do a thing about it." Korra's red-hot frustration quickly cooled into weariness and seemed to leave her with a sigh. "All I'm good for is being able to bending all the elements—when—_if_ I can even master airbending. I guess it'll be a cool trick to pull at parties," she muttered darkly in the end, shrugging.

"'The Avatar' doesn't have to be all you are. I don't know all of what the Order of the White Lotus has been teaching you to think, but each of your predecessors' legacies were their own. Their bending, the Avatar State, their connection to the Spirit World and their past lives; those things were the just tools they used to try and forge a better world. You, as Avatar _Korra_, choose how to go about that. For example, his accomplishments as an adult aside, Avatar Aang chose to confront the threat of the Fire Nation, before it could completely destroy the balance of the world. Now, Korra: is there not a similar threat in this very city, growing more and more powerful by the day?"

Recognition—and something else—flashed in Korra's eyes. "But Amon is…" She stopped, holding that _something_ back, and replacing it with, "He can _take away bending_, just like Aang could. He's like…he's so powerful, he's _like_ an Avatar."

"But he's not the Avatar. You are."

There was an unwelcome pause. Tarrlok had expected the inflection in his voice to coax the Avatar's confidence back out of hiding, but her gaze remained downcast. There was worry there, and—for the briefest of moments—something more primal in her blue eyes.

The subject of Amon had been the only topic to bring on this reaction—the compulsive biting of her lower lip, her eerily unblinking eyes. (The quickening of her pulse was also laid bare before him, but Tarrlok had always forbade himself from dwelling on those forbidden observations that often arose unbidden.) Where there was once the bravado she presented the press, away from the flashing cameras there was now only—

_Fear_.

The Avatar feared Amon.

This revelation, though unexpected, was not unwelcome. Tarrlok let the inward smile show on his face, knowing it would not look unfriendly. "And yet, without the help of others, even Avatar Aang couldn't have defeated Lord Ozai alone. In fact, even if you never enter the Avatar State or even master airbending, I believe you can defeat Amon and the Equalists—" His grin widened at Korra's skeptical expression. "—but first you need someone to show you the ropes here in the city, and establish a firm foundation from which to operate."

"Let me guess: that someone is you," Korra concluded flatly.

"This place is different, Avatar Korra, as we agreed. And you must admit that your strategy of barreling into trouble hasn't exactly been effective in cleaning up the city's streets." Tarrlok spread out his hands. "But look what we've been able to do as a team, working_within_ the law."

At this point Korra was only half-listening, shifting in her chair and suddenly more eager than ever to leave. But the Councilman continued.

"I'm sure your waterbending master—Katara, wasn't it?—taught you that water's power comes from its shapelessness—its adaptability. It can take any form, any shape; it can drip, it can crash. You can be like water, and conform to your new surroundings. Or, you can be like Councilman Koyuk, and refuse to go with the flow."

The Avatar only folded her arms and sighed. As a rare misstep, Tarrlok misread the gesture. "I know the rules frustrate you; I can relate, believe me. But," and his smile took on a wolfish edge that even Korra had to notice, "as with anything, they can be molded to suit your objectives—if you only know how to work the system.

"And defeating Amon is only the beginning." The tone of sweeping promise that suffused his voice drew even the wary Korra back into Tarrlok's orbit. "There are imbalances that the Avatar has never been able to correct—far more unjust, more undermining. You could be the first. And I want to help you do it."

Before Korra could react, the Councilman abruptly cleared his voice and again steered the conversation in a completely different direction. "Well, I shouldn't keep you any longer—growing girls need their sleep. I just need you to sign these, and then you can scoot on back to the Air Temple. Wouldn't want you to have to deal with Tenzin in a mood—I know how that is."

Korra's lips quirked up at that despite her confusion at the change of subject as Tarrlok proffered a pen and slid the last page of the report to her. As he stood up, Korra glanced over at the body of the report, which still sat in a neat pile across from her. She was about to reach for it when she noticed that Tarrlok had walked over to her side of the desk. She looked back at the page in front of her, but something about the Councilman's closeness was distracting; it wasn't quite oppressive or threatening, but his presence reminded her of that wall of water. It was disconcerting, it was…

She nearly jumped when Tarrlok reached a gloved hand in front of her vision. "Just sign here, and here," he said pleasantly.

"Right." Korra mechanically scrawled the characters for her name where he indicated, then paused. "Uh, shouldn't I have read the whole report before I signed?"

"That shouldn't be necessary," Tarrlok said neatly, picking up the page. Two sharp raps resounded as he straightened the complete report against the mahogany, and replaced it on his desk.

Korra frowned, still looking at the report when she stood after a light touch and gesture towards the door from Tarrlok.

"Well, good job out there today, Korra. Be careful on the way home," the Councilman said as he ushered her out of his office, his eyes somewhere over her head.

Before she knew it, the door had shut quietly behind Korra and the trickling water in the office felt more distant.

Just as suddenly, that stifling feeling Korra had fled the locker room for had returned, and her feet once again carried her swiftly through shadowy corridors towards the exit.

Only this time, leaving the area would not completely cure her of her uneasiness.

* * *

Stepping out into the crisp night air, Korra took a deep breath, incredibly glad of it.

The quiet of the city's government sector at night seemed to soothe her, and the anxiety over her conversation with Tarrlok and her future involvement with his task force was replaced by a sudden feeling of utter exhaustion; concern for the injustices in Republic City had been forgotten as a yearning to succumb to sleep overpowered her. She did not want to think about her Avatar duties, her future, or anything that Tarrlok had talked about. In fact, she did not want to think about anything that had to do with the Councilman, either; a niggling dislike of the man had emerged in her for the unease his words and behavior had inspired in her.

But she would not dwell on it now. At a relaxed pace, Korra walked down the hazily lit streets in the direction of the ferry to Air Temple Island. She hoped Pema had saved some porridge for her.

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE_

_(the "drip and crash" part of tarrlok's water lecture is of course stolen from bruce lee's famous quote)_

_this is actually an old fic from june that i just now phoned in an ending for. originally i wanted this to be the first in a tense and awkward series of short stories about taskforce korrlok, but starting next week i won't have regular computer access until around march (due to military officer school stuff; hence why i wanted to get it done and published). i've also been pretty uncreative lately as i've been getting ~in the zone~ for my upcoming ordeal. but here are my old author notes on this story from when i actually had an ounce of creative talent:_

_much like my author notes, this story was a bit ponderous (even the word ponderous i s) but i havent been writing lately so i just wrote and wrote. (vomited and vomited) trying to get the hang of the characters as i imagine them. that was the hardest part so i would like to focus on it, in hopes of improving next time._

_like i want to show the uneven power dynamic between them, which even our adorably dense friend korra is gradually becoming aware of—especially as she spends more time in republic city. in this story, the only reason korra was letting tarrlok manipulate her by leveraging his power over her was because she was totally unconscious of it, which is what scares her when she begins to see what he is doing; so now that she is getting an inkling of his intentions, she is likely to get up in his grill (:3c) if she senses anything fishy. at the same time korra has this kind of fascination with tarrlok, partially because he is Smooth Talking Attractive Older Man who happens to be of her tribe (and incidentally looks like half the males in her family (oh please gentle bryke dont let them be related via unalok or whoever (please please))). but she cant for the life of her figure out where Councilman ends and Tarrlok begins and it drives her up the wall because she is not used to his level of disingenuity._

_tarrlok admires her raw tenacity, it's both fascinating and invigorating to him. he really does want to be a team (heh is that what the kids call it these days) with her, but of course mainly with his own his Master Plan in mind. thus tarrlok honestly appreciates her usefulness but is a control freak and not cool with her straying from his directions. however gradually he realizes more and more that korra is kind of a powderkeg of angry wolftailed water tribe teen hormones (PROBABLY REMINDS HIM OF SOMEONE) and is not the sharpest water whip in the pool, so when she starts to act up he tries to tighten the reigns by asserting psychological control over her. ("ur airbending sux! heh umad?" etc.) keyword being "tries" tho. it gets to the point that he might try to assert physical control (as in ep 8) too, but it probably won't work out as planned…._

_on that note i didnt want to get into any awk sexual tension in this story yet, even though that is basically what my love of "korrlok" revolves around…_

_all in good time my friends…all in good time. next chapter (if it ever materializes): korra willfully disobeys orders, and when tarrlok realizes he cant control her he turns to alternate, douchier methods…"why bloodbend when i can teen-emotion-bend. kekeke"_

_washboard abs and peace,_

_-zosteria_

_*****this story was published about 4 months ago on tumblr; i didn't add it here at that time because i was very busy. now though i'm getting back into this, so maybe possibly i guess um expect a part 2 pretty soon. ish_

_thanks for readin_


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